Hypocrite
by Monchy
Summary: ObiwanAnakin nongraphic slash Our personal wishes can't stop the ways of the Force


**Hypocrite**

Anakin greeted one of his fellow Jedi with a head movement from one of the most dark corners of the place. It wasn't that the reception organized by the Council wasn't entertaining, or that there was lack of people, booze or fun, but his mind was somewhere else. Basically, on the person in which his eyes rested.

Obi-wan Kenobi, relaxed among friends and co-workers, keeping just a minimum of attention, couldn't notice the eyes that stabbed his back, staring, cold and lightly desperate.

Three months had passed since their last encounter, the day Anakin had told the man who no longer was his master that Padmé was pregnant. He had left, he had abandoned him into the arms of his wife, as if between them there wasn't another relationship that the one of a master and an apprentice. He had hated him, and he had destroyed the room, feeling a rage he hadn't known since his mother's death. But this time there was nobody to kill, nobody to blame, an easy target in which waste all his pain. That is why he kept hating him, no matter how much his hands hurt from not being able to reach and touch him.

He had tried to get over it with Padmé after all, something must have taken him to her, but all she managed to do was to make him angrier. Padmé was like an expensive adornment, something precious to be watched and feel proud of, but to fragile to actually possess it. They didn't touch much, less and less as time passed, and when he decided to lie over her and make her his the touch was so distant, so delicate that he was filled with the uncomfortable sensation of killing an unique flower. She didn't enjoy it either, and her pregnancy had provided the perfect excuse for to shelter under a celibacy that he didn't intend to break.

When Obi-wan touched him he was firm and aggressive. His rugose hands from the years of battle covered his skin with decision, looking in every encounter for more places that would make him scream out of pleasure. When he let himself go he became an incomprehensible mass of moans, whimpers and groans, hi face turned bright red and his perfect hair got uncombed, leaving aside master Kenobi, giving him his lover. Just then Anakin called him by his name. Even now, having become a Jedi knight, he kept calling him master, pleasuring himself with the sound of his real name only in the ecstasy of the orgasm.

But he denied his touch now. He had run away with cheap excuses, claiming that he couldn't be between a child and his father. He had hated and unborn human being, he had hated the woman who carried it and he had hated Obi-wan for running away. But once the anger was gone all he had left was an estrange emptiness, a pain he hadn't known before that still stayed with him. His eyes hurt from looking at him without him knowing, his hands hurt from not touching him, his lips hurt from not tasting his skin, but that was just physical. The worst thing was that weird sensation that crossed his interior, boiling his blood, burning his heart.

He lowered his gaze to his untouched glass and decided to talk to him, maybe just so his grey eyes looked at him again, so the word padawan formed in his lips again. He waited until Mace Windu left his master and approached him, still staring at his back. Obi-wan felt his presence and tensed visibly.

"Master" – he said softly, getting only silence – "master" – he repeated

Obi-wan lowered his head, hiding a half smile that Anakin felt trough their bond. He started to walk out of the room.

"Master" – Anakin called again, following his master's steps – "master… master"

But he kept walking until they left the room, taking his steps toward his rooms at the Temple.

Anakin tried to stop the fury but it kept filling the emptiness that his master had left. Wrinkling his features, he continued his walk after Obi-wan, his hand holding his light sabre unconsciously.

"Master" – he called again when the quarters' door opened – "¡damn it, master! ¡Master! ¡Master, master!" – he exclaimed leaning on the door frame while Obi-wan, now inside the room, kept showing him his back

He tried not to let the rage flow, but he knew the other man was noticing it pouring out of every one of his pores.

"¡Master!" – but it didn't matter – "¡¡master!" – his last call resembled a beg more than an order, mixing itself with the beginning of the crying that had been accumulating in his eyes – "master…" - he whispered allowing tears to fall down his face, pain taking the place of fury, emptiness extending – "master… master, please" – he fell on his knees, his hands attached to the frame that he hadn't dared to cross – "master…" - he kept calling, always repeating the same word

Anakin didn't notice when Obi-wan turned around and approached him, nor the grey eyes that stared at his kneeling body and his tear filled face.

"Get up, padawan" – Obi-wan's voice ordered, forcing Anakin to raise his eyes

"Yes, master" – he stood up, trying to stop the useless crying

"A Jedi knows no pain, Anakin, a Jedi knows no fear, knows no fury…"

"¡Nor love!" – cut the younger one, throwing himself into his master's arms, surrounding the smaller body, feeling him close – "¡but I love you, master, I love you! ¡I love you! ¡I love, I love you! I love you… I love you, I love you…" - he whispered the same words uncountable times while Obi-wan, surrendering to the plea, held him in his arms stroking his hair

"It can't be, Anakin"

"Why not, damn it?" – he shouted, his scream covered by the other man's clothing

"You have a destiny as a knight, as a husband, as a father… and I can't be part of it"

"You are my master…"

"And I will always be… Anakin, look at me" – Obi-wan took one of his hands to Anakin's chin, making him raise his gaze – "you will always be my padawan. I love you, Anakin, but our personal wishes can't stop the ways of the Force"

"¡You're a hypocrite!" – accused Anakin, going away from Obi-wan's embrace – "¡I'm nothing more than a prophecy to you, a poor soul to save from de dark side! ¡¡A goddamn promise to a dead man who never loved you!"

"You are wrong my young padawan, and I know you will understand it someday… now you must leave and meditate on this"

"Now you tell me to meditate, ¡what a great master you are, Obi-wan! Why did you take my kisses, my caresses? Was someone to warm your bed all you wanted?"

"Stop it, padawan!"

"I'm not your apprentice any more, Obi-wan"

With one last look at Obi-wan, who was trying to deny the pain that stroked his chest, Anakin turned around moving his cape in a way that would soon be a custom, leaving those rooms and heading towards the room where the noise and the smiling faces would turn off the buzzing dizziness that threatened with making him pass out.

"Is there something wrong, young Anakin?" – it was the voice of senator Palpatine who called him from a nearby bench

"Senator…" - he sighed while the man approached him – "no, everything if fine"

"I don't think so, boy… may I offer you a cup of tea?"

"Sure, senator… of course"


End file.
